


Turning Point

by jennandanica



Category: LOTR RPS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-17
Updated: 2009-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-03 04:20:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Co-authored by Deleerium. Karl's heard gossip and made some assumptions about Orlando.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turning Point

Orlando hurries down the narrow, winding corridor, the noise of the crowded bar growing as he careens around the last corner and slams into a wall of muscle and bone. Lips parting to offer an apology, his brain catches up with the dark shadows and he identifies the very masculine body he's stopped against. _Karl._ And smooth locks up, knees threatening to give at the familiar - and extraordinarily annoying - reaction. He digs his nails into his palms and manages to suffocate the streak of raw lust. "Karl." His name comes out gruff. "Sorry," he mumbles and wills himself to step away, but his body remains frozen, unable to move away. He nearly growls in frustration.

He's supposed to be in love with someone /else/. Elijah - even though he can't kiss worth a damn - or Viggo, even though he smells odd - or even bloody Dom, with hands like an octopus with pneumonia. But this thing with Karl. Every bloody time he's in the same room, Orlando's body does things, finding ways to remind him of the incessant, magnetic attraction. Which would be fine, on any other planet. But on this one, they've barely exchanged a word in months. They had once - a very long while back, at the beginning of filming, when he'd indulged in perhaps one too many Guinness and made an offer he instantly regretted. Karl's unequivocal answer had been a quiet but polite 'No.' Orlando hadn't waited for the rest, it was bad enough he'd been turned down for simple kiss. And he'd managed to never give Karl the opportunity to finish what it was he would have said. "S'cuse me." Body finally unlocking enough to step to the side a fraction. As much as he's able.

"Hey." Karl puts a hand on Orlando's shoulder, trying to get the younger man to look up at him. "Are you okay?" He knows Orlando's been avoiding him but he's not about to let him run off and knock into someone else without at least making sure everything's alright.

"I'm," Trying desperately to ignore the heat from the hand on his shoulder, Orlando looks up, and is trapped by Karl's gaze. "Fine," he breathes, dropping his gaze to his hand, splayed against Karl's chest. He blinks, and looks up again. "Totally." His voice more normal, without the edge, reading real concern in Karl's gaze. He smiles, and reluctantly drops his hand. Shoving both in his pockets. "I'm okay. Just didn't see you there. Around the corner."

"Apparently," Karl remarks dryly, amused. "Where are you headed in such a hurry?"

"The loo." Orlando blurts, then flushes. "I was in the loo." _Obviously, you git._ He fidgets a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing fingers through the short curls. "Just headed back to the hobbits. Well, Ian's there too. At the table. So not just hobbits..." he trails off, flushing again. "I just had, y'know. Beer. And," he gestures back over his shoulder, "so, yeah." Deciding it's best if he stops there. Before he digs himself deeper.

"You had to piss," Karl finishes for him, struggling to keep a straight face. "Do I make you nervous, or are you always this tongue-tied?" he teases, unable to resist, his hand still cupping Orlando's shoulder. And god knows he's had a few himself or he wouldn't be touching Orlando at all.

"It's just you," Orlando says, trying for a teasing bravado. Failing as the words come out more quiet and serious than he intended, held by Karl's gaze and the touch on his shoulder.

"Why?"

Orlando snorts and looks away, teeth tugging on his lower lip. _Might as well get it over with._ "Because I'm attracted to you, okay?" Defensive, his gaze tacking back to Karl. "But clearly it's not mutual, so if you'll let me go, me and my ridiculous libido will go away."

"I never said I wasn't attracted to you," Karl points out, finally pulling his hand back. "In fact, you didn't let me say much of anything."

Orlando gapes at him for a full minute, then splutters. "But you said _no_. I know I'd had a few," hesitating at Karl's expression, "okay, more than a few, but I'm sure when I asked if you fancied a snog, that's what you said."

Karl nods, leaning against the wall. "I did, but that has nothing to do with whether I find you attractive. I said no for other reasons."

"Oh," Orlando says. He shoves his hands in his back pockets, glancing down the dark, deserted hallway before his gaze returns to Karl. "Then... why?"

Karl hesitates for a moment. Finally deciding what the hell. Might as well go for blunt. "One, because I don't care to be another notch on your belt. Two, because I don't share easily. And three, snogging leads to other things and I'm sure you don't really want to go there with me. Not the way I play."

"Notch?" Orlando tilts his head, his confusion clear in his expression. "Karl, there are no notches." Gesturing widely. "My last boyfriend - count them, one - was at University." Avoiding the last in favor of clearing up the other two first.

"But you and the hobbits? And Viggo?" Karl stares at Orlando, gauging his honesty. "Sean said..." Fuck it. It doesn't matter what Sean said. Locker room talk most likely. "Seriously?"

"The hobbits? _Viggo_?" Orlando's laughter is strained. "Maybe someone saw a drunken snogging dare with Elijah, but that's all. And the closest I've come to shagging Viggo is listening to him natter on about mother nature until 4 o'clock in the morning, after the last party at his house." He holds out his hands, palm up. "I don't know what Sean's seen or heard, but there's nothing going on. At all."

Fuck. Karl looks away. "Still doesn't change two and three," he says, although Christ if it doesn't make things harder.

Orlando's blood is pounding beneath his skin, his chest tight with what feels like hope. "I don't share well either," he says quietly. "And I can't answer number three unless you tell me what you mean, _the way I play_."

Karl moves closer, backing Orlando up against the wall, hands braced above his head as he leans in. "I like my boys on their knees," he says quietly, voice barely above a whisper but with a real edge. "I like to hurt them, I like to control them and I don't change the way I do things for _anyone_."

_Oh my god._ Orlando stares up at Karl, eyes wide and dilated in the dim light. He stares in part shock, part fascination. Realizes belatedly that his cock is rigid, straining against his jeans. He releases the breath he's been holding, startled when it emerges as a low moan. "I don't..." he licks his lips, fear and lust colliding, Karl's body inches away, the danger radiating. "I've never...but how would I know," whispered, not understanding the visceral, /needy/ reaction, "unless, I...god fucking yes. _Hurt me._"

Karl smiles. "You sure about that?" Giving Orlando one last chance to change his mind.

"No," Orlando whispers, fisting one hand on Karl's shirt and leaning forward, flush up against him. Groaning quietly at the contact. "Not in the slightest."

"Good." Karl nods towards the main bar. "You need to get anything?"

_My sanity. I seem to have lost it._ Slowly, Orlando shakes his head. "No."

Karl straightens. "My car's outside. We can go out that door," he says, nodding towards the back exit, not wanting to deal with any of their friends at the moment.

Orlando heads for the back door, conscious of Karl close behind. Not knowing which car, he waits for Karl to point and unlock the doors, then climbs in the passenger side. He rubs his palms nervously on his jeans, for once in his chattering life at a complete loss for words.

Karl pulls out of the bar parking lot. In silence he drives several miles down the gravel side road before pulling over onto the shoulder, the road in front and behind them completely empty. Cuts the engine. "Take your clothes off."

Orlando gapes at him for all of five seconds. Long enough to read the _yes, I'm dead serious_ in Karl's gaze. _This is it._ He swallows audibly. _Move forward, or run away._ He takes a deep breath and shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it in the back seat. His t-shirt is next, then his jeans...no, his shoes. He reaches for his feet, quickly stripping off shoes and socks. Now the jeans. He hesitates, glances at Karl, blushes and unfastens them, stripping them down and away. Leaving only the dark road. His tingling skin, flushed chest, hard cock. And Karl's gaze.

Fuck, he's gorgeous. Everything Karl's imagined and more. Christ. "Good boy," he smiles, the expression downright wicked. "There's a bag in the glove compartment. In it, there's a plug and lube. Put it in."

Sheer bravado has Orlando opening the glove compartment, rummaging with hands that shake as he finds the bag. The plug. And the lube. _Oh god._ He flounders for a moment, trying to wrap his head around what he's - yes, what he's about to do - and how, exactly he's going to manage it in the front seat. He glances pointedly at Karl. "You're insane." And turns to kneel on the seat, facing the back as he lubes the plug and positions it between his cheeks. "And apparently," he bits his lip as the tip slips in - then out. His cock jerks against the seat. "I am too," he whispers, dropping his head as he pushes it firmly. In.

Karl smirks, cock hard as hell and straining at the zipper of his jeans. Of course he is. And he did warn Orlando, warned him thoroughly. "You can sit back down, keep your legs spread, cock and balls up. I want to see the base of that plug every time I look over."

Orlando groans as he complies, sitting with his back against the passenger door, thighs spread, one leg on the seat, one leg on the floor. He thumps his head back against the window, eyes closing against the crazy sensations. Naked and hard and _plugged_ for fuck sake, his cock already starting to twitch and weep. And Karl watching so intently he can feel his gaze. Which really isn't fucking helping. "Please tell me you live nearby."

"Near enough," comes the response. "Talk to me. Tell me how you're feeling," Karl says casually, glancing over, his eyes on Orlando's cock, hard and weeping against the boy's stomach.

"Pretty fucking vulnerable," Orlando snaps, his eyes still closed. He grimaces and shifts, pulling his leg up higher, breath catching as the plug shifts. "Hard," he breathes out. "Anxious and...needy. No, a craving. A craving to be touched."

"You sure you haven't done this before?"

"A plug? Yes. Dirty talk? Sure. Naked in a car? Once." Orlando opens his eyes, dilated so wide they're black. His cock twitches as their gazes connect. "All together?" he whispers. "Never."

"Good." Karl turns his attention back to the road, watching for the alternate turn-off in to his cottage. "Here we are," he says finally, having kept the silence for the rest of their journey. He shuts off the engine and parks in front, facing the house. "Pick up your clothes and bring them in," he orders, without waiting for Orlando as he gets out and goes inside.

Despite his bravado thus far, Orlando hesitates before leaving the relative privacy - safety - of the car. "Bloody hell," he mutters, contorting over the back seat to retrieve his clothes, cursing when he's unavoidably reminded about the plug. He swallows and tries to regain his composure. "Well, it's not like you've never walked around naked before." He tucks his bundle of clothing under one arm and climbs out of the car, forcing himself not to scurry inside. The details of the house are a blur - simple A-frame, nice size, with everything in its place. He hesitates as soon as he's walked through the door.

"Well, don't just stand there," comes Karl's voice from the other side of the room. "Put your clothes on the table and come over here. Let me see you." He steps out from behind the breakfast bar leading into the kitchen.

Orlando's been naked, but never on display. He sets his clothes on the table, giving them an awkward pat before standing in front of Karl. Every shift of his body reminding him of the plug. Every shift of the plug keeping his cock hard, thrust straight out in front of him. He forces himself not to fidget as he stands bare in front of Karl, each second that passes making the blush brighter - washing down his cheeks to his throat and spreading across his chest and shoulders.

"Bend over. Touch your toes," Karl orders, smiling, enjoying the blush, Orlando's obvious arousal.

Orlando blinks. "And then what, the Hokey Pokey?" He claps his hand over his mouth. "Sorry, yeah, okay," he stammers and bends over, slipping his fingertips under the balls of his feet. Mystified by the request until he feels the plug slip and he clenches to keep it in place. Groaning softly as his cock reacts with a hard twitch and moisture beads at the tip.

Chuckling softly, Karl walks around Orlando. "I'm glad you corrected yourself," he murmurs, trailing fingertips lightly so lightly over Orlando's hips and lower back. "I'd hate to hand you your clothes and tell you to go the hell home."

Orlando jumps a little at the contact, then shivers, the blood in his head - and cock - making everything feel slightly slower. "No, thank you." Body taut, anticipating the next touch. "I'll stay here. Please."

"Maybe." Karl slides his palm over the base of the plug, gripping in his hand and pulling it out to the widest part, his eyes on the stretch of Orlando's hole. Mm. Christ. So fucking beautiful.

Orlando gasps and the overwhelming urge to thrust back makes him sway. "Fuck," he groans, dropping his palms flat to the ground to hold himself steady, thighs trembling with the strain.

"You like that?" Karl twists the plug, shoving it back in hard.

"/Yes/," Orlando hollers, just saving himself from tipping forward, his curse quiet and hissed.

Karl smiles to himself and pulls the plug slowly out again, this time letting it fall from Orlando's body, two fingers quickly replacing it. Hard and sharp and unyielding as they push into Orlando.

Orlando's yelp of surprise fades into a low, drawn out moan, legs bending slightly - instinctive - as he pushes back, cock leaving smears of precome on his inner thighs.

"Nice and tight," Karl remarks, two fingers becoming three as he pushes them deeper, spreads them wider, twisting them inside Orlando, opening him up. "Even after the plug."

It should be too much, the grating blur of stretching muscle making Orlando groan. But the sensation goes deeper than the first shock of discomfort - radiating sensation from his hole to his cock, making it even harder. He rocks in slow motion, pushing down on Karl's fingers.

Karl stills, watching Orlando greedily humping his fingers. "Slut."

The word makes Orlando pause - for the dark shudder that creeps down his spine. _Slut._ "Yes," he whispers, shocked by affect it has on him. Makes him want to fuck himself harder. "I...that's fucking," he pushes back again, "intense."

"Hold on." Karl grabs Orlando's hip and holds him still, working a fourth finger into him, relying on the lube from earlier, from the plug, to do the job.

Orlando whines, the sound low and trapped in the back of his throat. "God. /Fuck/."

"Not yet." Karl smirks and pushes his fingers deeper, spreading them to stretch Orlando's hole, the hot pink skin making his cock ache, press tight against the zipper of his jeans. He lets go of his hip. "Now. Push back. Show me what a slut you are."

Without hesitation Orlando grinds his body back on Karl's hand, a rough, needy sound emerging from his throat. He flexes his knees, tilts his hips and does it again, the lewd motion impaling him on Karl's fingers. He does it again, all thoughts of how needy, vulnerable - /dirty/ - it must look, gone. Buried under the crazy sensations.

Fucking hell. "Harder," Karl growls, delivering a sharp slap to one cheek and then the other.

Orlando yelps at the first slap, but his moan deepens - gruff and desperate - at the second. Without leverage, all he can do is use the pendulum of his own body. So he does, trusting Karl _Karl's fucking /fingers/_ to catch him as he falls, is pushed upright by Karl's hand, and does it again.

"That's enough," Karl says finally, cock so fucking hard he can barely think straight. "Brace yourself. Over there, against the end of the couch." Fingers pulled from Orlando's body and wiped on his jeans.

Orlando rights himself and stumbles - scrambles - to comply, hands braced against the couch, thighs wide.

Christ. Not a fucking word from the boy. No hesitation at all. Karl rubs at the back of his neck, wondering if it wouldn't be kinder to send him home after all. Kinder, maybe, but so not his style. He opens his jeans, frees his cock and rolls a condom on. Nudges the head of his cock against Orlando's hole, then pushes in, slowly, one hand low on Orlando's back holding him in place.

If Orlando weren't so intent on controlling the moan rumbling around in his chest, he'd laugh - albeit hysterically. The evening had started out odd and gotten surreal from there. The thoughts scatter, his mind and body focused on the deep, sweet stretch of his body around Karl's cock. He gulps air, the sound frighteningly like a sob. He'd no idea. No idea he could be led here - to this point. How he'd respond. "Fuck yes. Fuck please yes."

Karl ignores Orlando. Pushes in, inch by achingly slow inch, his eyes on the sweet stretch of already reddened skin around his cock. Fucking beautiful. And so fucking tight. Burying himself slowly in the boy's ass until he's firmly seated, balls tight against his hole. "Now you can beg," he murmurs, stilling completely except for the throb of his cock.

"Ohgod," Orlando whispers, body clenching around Karl's cock. "Please," he spits out, breathless. "Fucking please move. Fuck me."

"No. I think you can do better than that," Karl says calmly, casually, despite his body fucking _aching_ with the need to fuck Orlando til he screams.

Growling in frustration, Orlando's mystified as to how much better than _please fuck me_ he can be. "Christ. Pretty fucking please put that bloody great cock of yours to work fucking me senseless, _please_, with fuck all on top of it."

And there it is. Karl chuckles softly. Grips Orlando's hips and holds him firmly in place, fucking him slowly, deeply, each and every thrust prolonged, made the most of, cock pulling out to the tip and then slowly, oh so slowly pushed back in. And again. "Mouthy boy," he says quietly, slapping Orlando on the ass again.

There's a _fuck you_ hovering at the back of Orlando's throat, but the delicious slide of Karl's cock scatters the words and they emerge as a garbled moan. Then the slap, which makes his neck arch, hissing as his cock jerks, muscles straining as he goes up on his toes.

"Slut," Karl growls, delivering another slap to Orlando's ass. Watching as the skin reddens and Orlando arches. He groans low in his chest and grips the boy's hips harder, fucking him deeper, faster, plunging him cock into that tight hot hole.

Straining, gasping as Karl pounds into him, the slaps burn bright under Orlando's skin. He pushes up on his hands, a harsh whine rising up from his throat, spilling over into a sharp, high pitched shout as his cock stiffens and spurts, come spattering the floor.

Fuck. Karl slams in harder, driving into Orlando with another dozen thrusts, all of them rough, brutal, relentless in their intensity, before he finally lets go and comes, filling the latex with thick hots spurts, his fingers digging hard into Orlando's skin.

Head hanging between his shoulders, Orlando braces against Karl's last thrusts, muscles locked to keep himself from falling over. Every inch of him tingling with sensation. His chuckles starts as a raw sound, and fades into a quiet, disbelieving sigh. "Christ." He looks over his shoulder at Karl. "Please tell me this is something we can do again sometime."

"Depends," Karl says, pulling out to get rid of the condom. He's not about to let on how much _he_ wants this to happen again. "You think you can wait for permission to come next time?"

Orlando blinks and straightens slowly. _Wait to come?_ "Why?"

"Because those are my rules and if you want this to happen again, you'll play by them," Karl says, shrugging lightly as he rights his clothes.

Orlando almost snorts but thinks better of it at the last second. He leans on the arm of the couch, ankles crossed. And matches Karl's shrug. Afraid to admit how much he'd do for a repeat performance. "Sure, then. Yeah."

Karl stares at Orlando for a moment. "There's towels under the bathroom sink in the bedroom if you want to take a shower," he says finally, nodding in the general direction. "I'm going to grab a quick bite to eat. You want anything?" It's been a long fucking time since he's brought anyone home. Or had anyone stay. Christ. And it probably shows.

"Yeah, I didn't..." _ever go back to the table for my burger._ Orlando grins. "Sure. I'm starved. And I think I will take you up on that shower, thanks." Heading in the general direction Karl indicated.

Karl throws a couple of sandwiches together, the bread piled high with meat and cheese, the last of the tomato and some lettuce. He rummages through the cupboards and locates a bag of plain salted crisps, tossing them in the centre of the table between the plates. Two beers round out the meal, Karl's hand hovering over the scotch, considering, but the beers seem like enough in the end. Fuck. He runs a hand through his hair, realizing there's no way of getting out of sleeping with Orlando, not without being a real fucking asshole or taking him the hell home.

It's not until Orlando steps out of the shower that he realizes his clothes are still on the table in the living room. He snorts and after a moment's hesitation, winds a towel around his waist. He's still ruffling the water from his hair as he walks into the kitchen and sits down at the table. Feeling awkward, but not unpleasant. His smile is unexpectedly shy as he looks at Karl and gestures at the food. "This is perfect, thanks." Waiting for Karl to sit before picking up is beer and taking a healthy swig.

"You're welcome," Karl says, sighing heavily as takes a bite of his sandwich and he leans back in his chair, watching Orlando, wondering what the hell to do about him. "Have you really been feeling uncomfortable around me all this time?"

Orlando nearly chokes on his bite of sandwich, swallowing hastily. "I, um." Escapes for a second with another swig of beer. "Not uncomfortable, really," he says. "More like tense." He grins. "Got annoying getting hard every time you walked into a room. Not tense now though."

That gets a chuckle and Karl grins, shaking his head in amused disbelief. "So, why me? You may not have given in, but I know for a fact half the cast wants to fuck you."

Orlando snorts, the disbelief a mirror of Karl's. "Half the people I've met since puberty have wanted to fuck me." No arrogance, just matter of fact. "That doesn't mean I'm want them to." Wondering how to answer the other question without sounding like he's seven. "As for the other, I don't know. I mean, for starters I couldn't get you out of my head." Fiddling with his beer bottle. "I'm attracted to you - clearly - but it's more than that. You seemed a bit...dangerous." His grin crooked. "That and you're not an asshole, from what I can tell." Lapsing into silence at having revealed so much.

"You mean my no didn't automatically qualify me as one?" Karl murmurs, unable to resist giving Orlando grief.

"No," Orlando says. "More like made me one for asking."

Karl shakes his head then exhales softly. "I don't usually let anyone stay over here. I like my space and I like to keep it mine, but you're here, and it's not like I'm going to take you home this late, so I guess I'll just have to put up with you tonight," he says, giving Orlando a small smile.

"But, I thought," Orlando says, his expression confused. "I thought since we've, you know...fucked, I'd be moving in." He waits for a handful of seconds before taking pity on Karl. "I'm fucking kidding. Man, you should see your expression." He chuckles and slaps Karl lightly on the shoulder as he gets up to take his plate to the sink. "I'm not much for sharing either and I have a crap early makeup call tomorrow. I'll call a taxi."

It's not the response he expected but Karl recovers quickly. Certainly puts him in his place. "Good luck getting a taxi to come out here at this time of night," he says, dumping his dishes in the sink. "Get your clothes. I'll take you home."

"Alright, thanks." Orlando drapes the now dry towel over a chair and rummages through his hastily discarded clothes, pulling his jeans on, boxers stuffed in the pocket. He shakes out his shirt and glances at Karl, grateful for the ride - but wondering if he should have taken him up on his offer to stay. _Nah._ He could tell Karl was uncomfortable with even offering. _Best to leave._ "I'm not that far from you, I think. Couple of miles." Pulling his shirt on.

"Fine." Karl grabs his keys and his wallet and waits for Orlando to finish dressing.

Orlando pauses. _Fine?_ He stands directly in front of Karl. "Look, I'm crap at reading people. I thought "I guess I'll have to make do" meant you wanted me to go," he says, frustrated by the tension that hadn't been there before. "I don't have to leave. Hell, I don't really want to leave, but I can't tell what you want. If you want me to go, I'll go. If not," taking a deep breath, "you can just set down your keys and wallet and I'll get back out of my clothes and not say another word about it."

If there's one thing Karl doesn't want, it's to seem like he wants anything. Wanting only gets you in trouble. Only makes it more likely you'll be disappointed. Hurt. Christ. But there's a time to take a risk and this might be it. He sets down his keys and wallet and looks at Orlando.

Orlando lets out the breath he's been holding and slowly pulls his t-shirt off. After a second, his jeans follow, both laid over the back of a chair. After a moment's hesitation, needing to be doing something other than just standing there, he goes to the sink and starts washing the dishes. "Thank you for dinner," he says quietly, glancing over his shoulder at Karl.

"You're welcome." Karl smiles and pulls a tea towel out of the drawer, taking the dishes from Orlando as he rinses them. "How early's your call tomorrow?"

"Seven. I wasn't supposed to be on the schedule until noon, but Peter's decided blondie should put in an appearance," Orlando says, handing the last plate to Karl and turning off the water. "How 'bout yourself?"

Karl grins. "Noon, but I'll take you in, see what everyone else is up to." He dries the plate, slides it on top of the others and closes the cupboard. "Grab your clothes so you'll have them in the morning," he tells Orlando, nudging him out of the kitchen and towards the bedroom.

"Aye, aye," Orlando says with a grin, gathering them up as he's guided into the bedroom. Laying his clothes on a chair, he glances around, nothing the simple, masculine furniture. The half-hearted attempt at making the bed. "Your place is nice. I like it."

"Thanks," Karl says, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. "First thing I did as an actor was this soap here in New Zealand. It gave me enough money to buy this place."

"I didn't know you were a soap actor. Which side do you sleep on?" Orlando asks, gesturing at the bed. He climbs in the other side when Karl points. "My first gig was on Midsummer Murders. The UK's version of Days of Our Lives meets Agatha Christie."

Karl nods, sitting on the edge of the bed while he sets his alarm. "I was in a show called Shortland Street. Played a gay paramedic," he says with a smile.

Orlando chuckles, curling up on his side facing Karl. "That's rather easy to picture, actually. You rescuing lives while making passes at the good looking firemen. 'Seduction a la Ambulance?' "

"It wasn't quite as risque as all that, but I did get to have the first male-on-male kiss on cable," Karl murmurs, still amused by the idea. He sets the clock back down and stands, dropping his jeans and draping them over the back of the chair beside the dresser.

There's some pithy comment on the back of Orlando's tongue, but it completely escapes him when confronted with a naked Karl. "Um," he licks his lips. "First kiss. That's...cool." And immediately wants to smack himself in the head for sounding like he's seven. He opts for ogling instead, gaze growing dark as his eyes travel from shoulder to hip to calf and back again.

"Like what you see?" Karl teases, smirking lightly.

"Nghyeah." Orlando clears his throat, his smile crooked. "Yeah. You're quite gorgeous. Don't mind me looking, do you?"

Karl laughs. Shakes his head and climbs into bed beside Orlando. Crooks a finger at him, beckoning him closer.

Tongue snaking over his lower lip, Orlando slides towards Karl, getting close enough to feel the heat from his body. As close as he can without touching. "You beckoned?" he whispers.

Nodding, Karl stretches out on his back, pulling Orlando to straddle him. Reaches into a bedside drawer and hands him a condom and lube. "Prep yourself and then ride me," he orders.

"That I can do." Orlando's voice wavers but his hands are steady. His body responding instantly to the heat of Karl between his thighs. He rips open the packet and rolls the condom of Karl's cock. Then slicks up his fingers and leans forward, grunting as he pushes in two - deeper - then three. Groaning. _Christ, enough._ Wiping his hand on his thigh as he lifts up - hands no longer steady - and slowly lowers himself on Karl's cock.

"Christ, you're beautiful," Karl murmurs, hands gripping Orlando's thighs, holding him still for a moment as he pushes up into him, sheathing himself fully in the wondrously tight heat.

Flushed with pleasure - at the sensation and the words - Orlando splays his hands over Karl's chest. Moans quietly as his cheeks rest flush against Karl's thighs. His grin is sideways with pleasure. "This feels beautiful." Slowly pushing up, nearly off, and sinking again.

"Does it?" Karl grins, resisting the urge to take control and instead letting the waves of pleasure wash over him with every drop.

Orlando rolls his hips and his head goes back on a moan. _There_. "Ohfuck, yeah." Raising and lowering his body, screwing himself down on Karl's cock.

"Will it still feel as good if I tell you you're not to come," Karl murmurs, suddenly thrusting sharply upwards, his cock stabbing into Orlando's hole.

Orlando cries out, hands pressed against Karl's chest and his cock twitches, smearing precome against skin. "Ohgod," he whispers, being told not too come making the need sharp and urgent. "I don't know. Yes. Fuck."

Deciding to press his luck, Karl pushes harder. "What if I tell you not to come until I give you permission. Until we're together again?" Feet pressed flat to the mattress, hands on Orlando's waist holding him aloft as he fucks him harder and deeper still.

Orlando whines and drops to his elbows, crouched over Karl. "Christ, I don't," his moan louder, clutching his shoulders, the need to come screaming under his skin. "Please." The word bursting out unexpectedly, knife hard at being made to wait. "How long...oh fuck, please I want to come."

Karl grips the back of Orlando's neck and stills, cock throbbing inside him. "No. Not until tomorrow night. In my trailer. After we're done for the day."

Orlando meets Karl's gaze, the promise in it. And despite the scream of frustration lurking in his throat - unbelievably - nods. Still clinging. He shudders and whispers, "Okay."

"Good boy." Karl thrusts in again, once twice and comes, filling the latex between them with heated spurts. Waiting doesn't apply to him. Ever.

Groaning when he feels Karl come, for a mad moment Orlando considers taking it all back, his skin prickling with need. But, one by one his muscles slowly come unclenched. And when he's finally capable of moving, he pushes off and rolls to the side. Snatching at a pillow to keep his hands occupied.

"See?" Karl grins, tossing the condom in the bin beside the bed. "This is why you should've taken me at my no," he murmurs, only half-joking, his hand placed on Orlando's stomach, pulling him closer again.

Orlando hisses at the hand on his stomach, but doesn't pull away, grumbling under his breath as he settles back against Karl. "Touch me and you'll get a bloody stomach full of sharp elbow."

"I won't," Karl promises, smiling, reaching a hand over his head to turn off the light. "Won't touch you til tomorrow night. Long as this," a quick kiss pressed to Orlando's shoulder, "doesn't count."


End file.
